The Butterfly Effect
by Gigigue
Summary: When Aranel wakes up in Middle-Earth, she realizes that the defeat of Sauron can not be accomplished without her help. However, when she saves the life of someone dear to her, the story as she knows it falls apart. Not only must she fulfill her purpose, but bring about a happy ending.
1. Chapter 1: Rivendell

**A/N: So... Hi! This story has an interesting back-story which I'm not going to tell you. :) But basically, I've known the in-depth storyline of this story for a long time, but I never thought about writing it until now. Not a single character falls for my OC! Nope, no romance. Instead, she'll get hurt a lot and everyone will worry. So yup. Here we go.**

I was brushing my teeth, just like on any other night. I scrubbed hard, making sure to get everywhere. After several minutes of that, I changed into my PJs and got into bed. Yup. That was pretty much my evening. Boring right? Well, as I was to find out, that was about to change. As I drifted off to sleep, I couldn't help but think how cold I was. And how uncomfortable my bed was. And speaking of that, how itchy the mattress cover was. And why had someone left a fan on? Luckily (or maybe unluckily), I fell asleep anyway.

The next thing I noticed was the horrible aching in head. I struggled to open my eyes, but a soft voice whispered, "Sleep...", and I gladly gave in.

Then I woke up. It was sudden, and a little shocking. I lifted my head hesitantly, wondering if the pain would return, when I froze. My eyes shifted slowly, taking in the huge four-poster bed I was sleeping in, the intricate carvings and graceful statues on the delicate wood walls, and the candelabra that daintily stood next to me. Actually, the most prominent thing I noticed was that my room had several arches cut into the walls which opened straight into an ethereal world of trees, rushing water, and elegant archways.

And then I saw my first person. He (or she, it was hard to tell which) walked regally down a passageway outdoors, making no noise, and looking perfectly serene and content. At this, my brain froze up. One word stood out prominently from the jumbled contents: ELF. No, I thought. There's no way. Just...that would be incredible! Can it really be? Yes, my heart told me, it must be. No, my brain countered, it's not real. But my heart won out in the end. I was flooded with utter glee as I realized I must be in Rivendell.

All my life, I had read the books and watched the movies, to the point where I knew every scene and almost every line by heart. My only regret was that I would never be able to see it in person. And here I was, sitting, in a bed, in Rivendell. It looked exactly as Peter Jackson had depicted it, and yet somehow more regal, and more elegant, and more grand, and more beautiful - most of all, more real. How in the world did I get here? And when did I get here? Other than the ecstatic urge I had to jump up and down and fangirl squeal, I was desperately wondering whether I had come before or after the events of the Fellowship, and if so, how far separated? I wouldn't want to come all this way only to find out Bilbo was still a tiny hobbit child playing games and climbing trees with his friends.

Feeling like a kid at an amusement park, I threw back the covers and hopped onto the ground. I was dressed in a light and gauzy medieval-style dress. It was pure white, with a delicate silver belt resting softly on my hips. I couldn't help but smile at what I thought must be the elves' choice of wardrobe for me - it was exactly like what I'd always wanted my wedding dress to be. My dark brown hair lay softly on my shoulders, and my feet were bare, making me feel like a princess from a dream.

Cautiously, I moved toward the other side of the room. I felt a little unsteady, which reminded me of the headache I had had sometime in my sleep. Still, I wouldn't let that stop me from finding out where I was, so I stepped outside onto a set of thin but solid steps. A cool breeze brushed my cheek, and I couldn't help but feel totally and completely happy. I closed my eyes for a moment, listening to the airy tunes of the birds and the rustle of leaves.

A soft, deep voice startled me out of my thoughts: "I see that you have awoken." Looking to my left, I saw a tall man with thoughtful eyes smiling slightly at me.

"My lord Elrond," I said, curtseying, as instinct overrode my sudden desire to squeal and hop up and down. I decided to try and suppress these urges as I knew I would probably meet others who would induce similar reactions in me.

"I see you know who I am, though I do not know you," Elrond continued, still with the same slight smile on his face. "Come, let us walk and talk together. I have many things I wish to know."

He held out his hand, and I took it, barely knowing how I did so. He helped me down the steps, and then we began walking. I tried to match Elrond's long, smooth steps while still absorbing everything around me. Elrond had been silent for a while when he said, "I take it you have never seen a home of the elves before."

I made a wry face. "You would be absolutely right on that point. I live far away from any elves."

"And where do you come from?" Elrond asked.

I thought for a moment. There was no way I could tell him the truth: that I came from a small town in the middle of the US, which was actually in a different world entirely than where I was here. However, I couldn't let the silence hang for too long, so I settled for a vague answer. "I come from a place...a long way from here. In fact, it's not even in Middle-Earth. No one from my country has ever even been to Middle-Earth. Most people don't even think it really exists."

Elrond gave me a piercing stare. I thought he would ask me for specifics, but instead he turned away once more and asked, "Before we go on, may I ask you your name?"

I blushed, having totally forgotten to introduce myself properly. Digging quickly through my reserves of Middle-Earthian names, I settled for an Elvish name I had gotten once from one of those name translators: "My name is Aranel."

"Glad to have met you, Aranel." We walked in silence for another moment before Elrond asked, "If your land is so far away, then how is it that my scouts found you near the borders of Rivendell?"

I stopped, taken aback by what he'd said. "Is that really what happened?"

"Tell me what you remember first, and then I will tell you the story."

"Alright," I began. "I don't actually remember very much. I had a relatively normal day, and I went to bed that night as usual. Then, next thing I knew, I woke up here." I stopped. The events were already becoming a little fuzzy, and I felt there was something I was forgetting.

"Are you sure there was nothing else?" Elrond pressed.

I shook my head. "No, not really. Well, actually I did feel cold and itchy as I fell asleep. Almost as if...I was...outside. Could that be true?"

Elrond dipped his head in assent. "My scouts were patrolling the borders of Rivendell as usual, when they saw you lying on the ground some distance away. You were out in the open, fast asleep. They carried you back, but you had already contracted hypothermia. For three days you lay sleeping, until this morning when you woke up. Today is September the 18th."

My brain spun with this information. "So..." I began to think out loud. "If I felt the grass as I fell asleep, then I must have somehow transported here instantly. It's the only explanation." I looked quickly at Elrond. What I had just suggested was rather out of the ordinary.

However, he didn't seem fazed by my deduction. Instead he looked up into the bright blue sky and sighed. "If that is so, why do you think it happened?" he asked.

"Well, I guess God - I mean Eru must have brought me here in order to do something. Maybe something that has to do with-" I hesitated. Would it be a smart idea to bring up such a touchy subject? Elrond barely knew me. But his piercing eyes seemed to bore into my brain, so I took a leap of faith and said, "I think it has something to do with the Ring."

Immediately, Elrond drew himself up to his full height. He towered over me, and I couldn't help but avert my eyes from his searching glance. Loudly he questioned, "What do you know of the Ring?!"

Cowering helplessly, I attempted to explain. "Well, in my land, we know the legend of Isildur and how he acquired the One Ring. And...well, we also know that it was lost for years, and..."

As I stumbled and stuttered my way through an insufficient story, Elrond looked off into the distance, and when I stopped once more, he looked at me. In his eyes, I could read so many emotions: sadness, pain, despair, love, and hidden behind everything else, a little bit of hope. With great heaviness in his demeanor, he said, "You are not of this world, are you?"

This statement took me completely aback and I stammered, "How - how did you know?" It seemed impossible that Elrond, who was so logical and wise, could possibly suggest that. And yet, perhaps it was these very qualities that led him to believe this outlandish fact.

He looked into the distance again. "I have foreseen it."

After a lengthy silence, I asked tentatively, "Do you know what it is I have to do?" Although I felt that I was here to help with the affair of the Ring, I had no idea what my role in it could possibly be. In the movies and the books, of course the Fellowship had succeeded on their own. Of course they had had help from others in Middle-Earth, but not from someone from a different dimension.

"No, I do not know what your role in this will be," Elrond finally replied. "All I can tell you is that it will not be easy. There is a chance you might not survive."

At this I gulped.

"But I know," he finished, "that without you, Middle-Earth is lost."

* * *

After our first meeting, Elrond and I grew into a routine of having a discussion every other day. We talked of many things, and he taught me a little rudimentary Elvish. There were many book in Rivendell, however, which were written in the Common Tongue, and I read profusely, learning everything I could about almost any subject available. I particularly looked for any information which might give me a clue as to my purpose there.

And one day I found it. I was flipping through a book on Mordor, when a piece of information caught my eye. I looked closer, and that's when I realized its significance for me. My throat closed up in fear. There was no way I could possibly do this on my own.

I spoke to Elrond that night. He became very grave when he learned of my discovery. But he knew I was right. The next day, I began sword instruction under one of the other elves. Although I took to it naturally, I still hadn't learned very much by the time Arwen rode into Rivendell carrying a very important burden...

**A/N: So this was officially the longest chapter I've written in any story ever (which is kind of sad 'cause it's still only 2,000 words). So tell me what you think so far. Also, I'm in a dilemma. I can't decide where to have Aranel go after the breaking of the Fellowship. There are three options: she could go with Sam and Frodo, she could go with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli, or she could save Boromir's life and strike out on her own with him. I have ideas for all three, and I just can't decide. So let me know what you'd like in the comments! I might also put up a poll later. Thanks! Bye!**


	2. Chapter 2: Encounters

**A/N: Hi peeps! Yeah, sorry about the long wait. It's amazing how hard it is to find time to write when you're not on Thanksgiving break anymore. :P Anyway, I'm pretty pleased with this chapter because I wrote most of it in a short amount of time. And it's longer than my previous chapter. And it was really fun to write. I literally did not want to stop, which is unlike me. Also **Sacagewea's **suggestion gave me a completely new idea which popped into my head. It caused me some significant amount of panic until I figured out how to restructure the second half of the storyline. So now I'm super inspired! Read the new and updated summary for the new plot.**

I was sitting in the library, reading about the early kings of Gondor, when a commotion disturbed my concentration. Feet rushed past the gilded door, and voices called and shouted. Wondering what was going on, I stood up and peeked into the neighboring hallway. Everyone had already disappeared, so I sped toward a window. I leaned over the windowsill, and by stretching as far as I could, I was able to see around the huge tree in front of me. A crowd had gathered around two figures sitting on a white horse. One was clearly Arwen, whom I had met several weeks before at dinner. The other was significantly smaller, the size of a child. He slumped over the neck of the horse.

A chill went down my spine. _Frodo_, I thought. _He's finally here!_ My heart raced, and all I could hear was its incessant pounding. I almost fell out the window, but I caught myself just in time to jump back from the windowsill and run down the hallway toward the outdoors.

By the time I got down there, Frodo was already being taken to a room, Elrond following after him. Although I knew he had been stabbed by a ringwraith, I wasn't worried - I also knew that he would survive. I was more interested in seeing him up close.

Hurrying to follow them, I snuck behind the party as they rushed to a chamber not too far away from mine, and identical in every way. Once Frodo was laid gently in the cushy bed, the other elves left Elrond alone with him. I hid in a nearby alcove as they serenely walked past.

Once they were out of sight, I slipped quietly into the room and stood beside Elrond, who was watching Frodo breathe raggedly in and out. He didn't acknowledge my presence in the slightest, so I turned my gaze to the sleeping hobbit. He was as white as the sheets he was laid in, with a tinge of sickly green around his mouth. Instead of the radiant blue his eyes typically shone with, his pupils had grown enough to completely obscure any color. The rest of his eyes was bloodshot, adding to the general unpleasantness of his appearance. He tossed and turned feebly, moaning as pain racked his body.

Elrond moved to Frodo's side and bent over him. I watched, fascinated, as Elrond placed his hand on Frodo's forehead and began to whisper in Elvish. The words reverberated throughout the room, pulsing through my skull, making my teeth vibrate and my eyes ache. I took a step backward - my legs could barely support me.

Then the noise stopped, and I was able to see clearly once more. Frodo's skin was no longer as pale as it had been, and the sweat beading on his cheeks was completely gone. It seemed that Elrond had broken the deep fever resting on the frail hobbit. From out of a pouch hanging on his belt, Elrond took several different types of leaves and crushed them into a cup of water left by one of the other elves. The pigment in the leaves stained the water a bright green, making me think of mint and limeade. He then trickled some into the wound in Frodo's shoulder. As he did so, I could visibly see the muscles in Frodo's arms and legs relax, and his fists unclenched. It seemed that the herbs were a powerful painkiller.

Elrond stood up and sighed. "There is no more I can do for now. Come Aranel, we must leave our hobbit here to rest in peace." I rose and followed him out of the room.

* * *

I was not allowed to see Frodo again, at any time over the next few days, although, I knew that he was still asleep. And the following week, when the others arrived, I let them adjust themselves to Rivendell without being assaulted by my curiosity. However, once Frodo awoke, I began to seek out glimpses of the hobbits and Aragorn.

In fact, one evening, I was once again in the library, when Aragorn wandered in, looking for some tome or other. I glanced up, trying to be inconspicuous. A few minutes later, he had found the appropriate novel and sat down on a couch neighboring mine. I thought for sure that he could hear my rapidly racing heart. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him look at me.

All of a sudden, his deep voice rang throughout the chamber. "You are not an elf."

I started a little, then glanced shyly up at him. "Neither are you," I replied sarcastically. I bit my lip as I realized how that might sound to him, but I was rewarded with a chuckle.

"No, I am not. But I was raised here for most of my life. What brings you to Rivendell? I haven't seen you here before," Aragorn clarified.

"Well," I explained, "I was found outside Rivendell half dead from the cold, and then Elrond brought me back to health. So here I am." Before Aragorn could ask the logical question, I said, "I don't really know how I got here, but my country's a long ways away." He still looked a little confused, so I said, "My name's Aranel."

He seemed relieved to find something he could respond to. "Pleased to meet you lady Aranel. My name is Aragorn."

I blushed, embarrassed to be called a lady.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"Fourteen and a half," I answered quickly. At that moment I felt very young, sitting in the presence of one who was already in his eighties, and who had grown up with elves in their thousands.

Aragorn just smiled pleasantly, then turned back to his book. We didn't speak again, and he left after about twenty minutes. But I had a warm, happy glow in my heart for the rest of the day.

* * *

I woke up one morning to hear a knock in my door and the brush of something being shoved under my door. I sat up and rubbed my bleary eyes. The previous night, I had stayed up late stargazing, and when I peeked outside, the sun was barely peeking over the horizon. Ugh, I thought, I did not get enough sleep. I groaned and stood up stiffly, wishing for five more minutes of my precious night-time hours. But when I picked up the letter, all my troubles were forgotten.

It was a piece of thin, yellow paper, folded into thirds and sealed with red wax. Imprinted in the wax was a simple leaf design, the shape of Elrond's signet ring. With a quick tug, I popped the seal open, so I was able to read the flowing lettering within:

Aranel

You have been summoned to a secret council tomorrow morning at 10:00.  
Do not be late.

And that was it. No more, no less. _This must mean Frodo's awake!_ I thought. I contemplated paying him a visit, but he didn't know me and his friends would doubtless want to spend as much time as possible showing him around.

Judging by the sun, it must only be about 8:00 in the morning, so I had all day to do as I pleased. I rummaged through my wardrobe, and pulled on a dark blue tunic, brown leggings, a belt, and tall boots. Then I ran out the door to the stables.

It was typical for me to start my morning with a quick ride to wake myself up. As part of the past couple weeks, I had been relearning how to ride. Back at home, I had taken horseback riding lessons for a few years, but according to Celedor, the riding master in Rivendell, I had been taught completely wrong. And so I was being taught anew, and now I could ride sidesaddle (although I doubted I would ever use the skill).

For my purposes, I had been given a jet black horse, by name of Selena, who, although gentle, was swift as the breeze. As I walked into her stall, she nickered gently, and I smiled happily. After rubbing her down and saddling her up, I led her out of the stable and hopped on her back. Squeezing my heels into her flank, I rode deep into the surrounding forest.

For three hours I rode hard, while laying out my thoughts in my head. The letter this morning had made me both apprehensive and very excited. Tomorrow would finally be the day when I would officially meet all the members of the Fellowship, which of course was monumental. I had never thought to have this opportunity back home in the US. And now I was here, and I was about to see them.

Yet I couldn't help but fear what would happen afterwards. It was at the council today, I knew, that we would form the Fellowship of the Ring. And I would be a part of it. And then I would set out on a quest which might lead to my death. So despite the heart-pounding excitement which was flooding my brain, the sobering thought of possible pain and injury kept me from reacting too much.

I was so lost in thought that I didn't even see the tree branch sticking out from a tree beside me. It struck my face and broke off with a resounding crack. White light engulfed my vision and I felt myself slowly tumble to the ground before I lost consciousness.

A soft snuffling on my chin woke me up. I shoved Selena off my face and then opened my eyes. The forest was pitch black except for a light yellow tinge from the full moon high above the treetops. I sat up with a groan, brushing off pine needles and dirt. Everything around me was quiet. Even the nightly crickets seemed to have stopped their musical chirping. In fact, the intense silence was positively eerie.

"Come on Selena, let's go," I whispered, anxious to escape the dark and get back to a warm dinner in Rivendell. I hadn't eaten all day, and my stomach was protesting loudly. I felt my face where the branch had hit me. I had a huge lump on my forehead and numerous scratches where the pine needles had whipped by. However, I didn't seem to be seriously hurt, so I scrambled to my feet and hopped onto Selena.

Looking around, I tried to discern where I was. Everything looked so different in the dark, and in my fear, I didn't think to look for my previous tracks. Instead, I chose a direction which seemed vaguely correct, and headed out at a trot while looking around warily.

For ten minutes I rode, hoping against all hope that I would break through the trees to see Rivendell glowing on the hill, welcoming me back with all its warmth and hospitality. But it was not to be, and after another five minutes I had to accept that I was lost.

I stopped and took a deep breath. _Okay_, I decided, _I've got to think logically. __I don't know where I am, and I don't know how to get back. But if I try to travel more, I might head the opposite direction entirely. If I wait until morning, hopefully I can recognize where I am and ride back._

Thinking thus, I hopped off Selena once more and began to gather supplies for the long night ahead. I had no idea how late it was, but I gathered enough loose wood nearby to keep a fire going for at least eight hours. I cleared a small circle of leaves and other flammable materials, then built a tiny tepee inside it out of twigs. I placed a bit of dry grass underneath it. Taking an outdoor survival class as a kid had payed off after all. Unfortunately, I had never learned how to know what kind of rocks are and are not flint, so when I pulled out the dagger I had been carrying around lately, I had to attempt to create sparks with every rock in my vicinity. Eventually, I found a stone which worked, and I managed to create enough sparks to light my small fire.

After all this work, I was very tired, and I huddled by my tiny flame, soaking up the bit of warmth and light. Despite the protection of fire, I still glanced around, wary of the rustling of the leaves outside the circle of light. I hugged myself tightly, attempting to retain every bit of body heat possible. Being October, the nights were getting very chilly. I didn't want to sleep for fear of the blaze going out, so I watched Selena nibble at some dry grass at the base of a tree. It was going to be a long night.

Selena yanked her head up and froze, her ears swiveling this way and that. My heart stopped beating, and I held my breath in terror. I listened carefully. Above the snapping and popping of the fire, I could hear heavy footfalls to my left. My hand moved to the dagger lying on the ground, and I wished fervently now for my sword. I turned toward the noise, which was approaching steadily. "Who's there?!" I called, hating the trembling in my voice.

A rugged voice answered me, "One who travels to Rivendell." Then a man stepped into the light, leading a bay horse.

I stood, still holding the dagger. "Boromir?" I stared in excited awe at my second favorite character in the entire Lord of the Rings series. Who could have known I would meet him now of all times?

Boromir looked warily at me. "How do you know my name?" he asked. I tried to imagine what he must be thinking: here was a young girl, alone in the woods, in the middle of the night, with a scratched up face, and a look of recognition on her face, who knew his name, although she was a complete stranger to him.

"Oh, uh," I stammered, trying to explain myself. "I'm sorry. My name is Aranel. I was, um, I was told that you were coming." I justified this statement by saying that J. R. R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson both had told me, in a way, that Boromir was coming to the council of Elrond.

Apparently satisfied, Boromir moved a bit closer to the fire. "So, Aranel, what brings you out to these woods? I saw your fire and thought perhaps you were a traveler like myself."

"Not exactly," I answered. "I've been staying in Rivendell for a while now, and I was riding my horse when I got lost. I was all set to spend a night until I could see to find my way. Do you know how to get back?" I hoped desperately that he did - I was still hungry even though I was almost warm again.

"As a matter of fact, I do." My heart ached with joy at this reply, but Boromir frowned. "Have no search parties been sent to look for you? It is dangerous for a young woman such as yourself to be out this late."

I hastened to assuage him. "I spend a lot of time by myself. Sometimes I'm in the library for hours on end and I lose track of time, so I'm often late for meals and such. They probably think that's what I'm doing now."

Boromir still looked concerned, but he didn't push it. "Well, I suppose we should head back then, before they get too worried about you."

He waited patiently while I scraped ashes over my tiny fire, then offered to help me on my horse. I politely declined. I needed practice mounting on my own. Boromir mounted on his own horse, then clicked his tongue and set off into the forest, me trailing behind.

I hadn't realized how far into the woods I had come; it took us an hour to make it out of the woods. As soon as we trotted into the courtyard, Elrond came out to meet us. He looked curiously at me, wondering how I had met Boromir, but he didn't ask me about it. As soon as I could I slipped inside and changed into my nightgown, had dinner brought to my room, then snuggled under the covers to sleep.

**A/N: Once again, read and review! Once I start updating more regularly, I might start doing fun shout-out to reviewer things... But it'll only happen if you review, so do it! :) Feel free to critique - I'm always up for suggestions.**


	3. Chapter 3: The Council

**A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! I know it's a little late, but you know. I've been working on the overall storyline a bit more, which is part of why this chapter took a while. I've decided to aim for updates every two weeks. I know that's kind of slow, but I don't have much time to write. And just sticking to that schedule will be a first, so...**

I twiddled my thumbs nervously, watching the sun painfully crawl higher in the sky. The golden rays shone through my window in joyous fountains, but I could only see them as prison bars, trapping me in my room. When the sun was no longer in my window, I knew it would be 10:00, time to go to the council.

But, as they say, a watched pot never boils, and so it was with the sun. No matter how long I watched, it never seemed to move in the slightest. Birds flitted by, elves moved gracefully on the winding pathways, leaves rustled and trees swayed, but the sun remained sedentary. I resignedly turned to the book thrown on my bed and re-engrossed myself in the tale of Beren and Luthien.

After a few minutes, I looked up toward the window. The sun was gone. _What?! _I thought, _There's no way I was reading that long! _I checked the book. Sure enough, I had read fifty pages, becoming so lost in the story that I had completely lost track of time. _Crud... _Luckily I was already dressed, so I tugged on my boots and crashed through the door to my room, racing down the halls as fast as I could. The other inhabitants of Rivendell looked at me strangely as I flew by, no doubt wondering why Elrond would let a tardy child such as me participate in the council of the ages. Sometimes I wondered that myself. Still, I had been summoned, and so I went, pushing past anyone standing in my way. Let the others think what they will - I was going to be there.

I slid to a stop in the passage next to the council chamber, skidding like a baseball player stealing home, just in time to hear Aragorn say, "Havo dad, Legolas." I would have smiled to myself if the entire circle of men, elves, and dwarves hadn't looked up and glared at me. My face reddened, my embarrassment proudly proclaimed to everyone watching. I tentatively walked toward Elrond, being careful not to look into anyone else's eyes. I dipped my head toward him and said, "My lord Elrond. I'm sorry I'm late." It was impossible to read Elrond's expression - he could have been anywhere from angry to amused.

"Please, sit down," he instructed, and I scurried to the nearest empty seat, like a dog with its tail between its legs. I looked around at those sitting around the chamber: Boromir and Aragorn, sitting almost directly across from me, looked confused at my presence; Legolas was giving Aragorn an angry look, probably because of the reprimand from earlier; Gimli looked almost bored - perhaps he felt uncomfortable being in an elf haven; Gandalf, sitting close to me, looked concerned; and Frodo- I flinched, startled, as I realized that he was sitting right next to me. He stared at me wide-eyed, an expression of discomfort that made him seem enormously childlike. I grimaced.

"Sorry," I whispered as quietly as I could. Apparently it wasn't quiet enough, because the elves sitting nearby looked at me once more. I slouched farther down in my seat, mortified at the way events were going. Could this possibly get any worse?

As the commotion I had caused died down, Boromir looked over at Legolas and said menacingly, "Gondor has no King. Gondor needs no King." I cringed inwardly. It sounded more rude now than it ever did in the movie. Aragorn looked exasperated.

Gandalf, sensing the growing unease of the group, decided to get everyone back on track by saying, "Aragorn is right. We cannot use it." _That's right, the Ring! _I thought. Somehow I had completely forgotten the object on which this meeting was centered. I looked over toward the pedestal where the Ring sat, still and silent, but alive and powerful. It looked completely ordinary, but the way it attracted the attention of almost everyone in the room was scary.

Before anyone could get any ideas, Elrond stood up and said, "You have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed."

"Then what are we waiting for!" yelled Gimli, striding toward the pedestal. He swung his axe in an arc before slamming it down on the Ring.

A thunderclap burst in my ears and I saw the eye. A glowing, wrathful, fiery eye, staring down into my soul. I felt exposed, as if I was standing on a stage in front of the entire world, my secrets laid bare for anyone and everyone to know. Then a deep, breathy voice whispered, "Fiim gru... Amat? Matum skaatat snak. Lat kulat shatûpat!" The words rang in my ears, repeating themselves, getting louder and louder, until suddenly it stopped. My vision cleared. Gimli was sitting on the ground with the shattered pieces of his axe ranged around him. Silence reigned.

My heart pounded in my chest as I thought about that terrible voice. I could never have imagined the terror of such a thing, quiet but menacing, smooth but corrosive. Why me? Why had it spoken to me? Did it know why I was here? Without that job to do, I was nothing. I looked over at Frodo. He too had seen the eye, and he looked as disturbed and confused as I felt. Gandalf looked at the two of us curiously, and it looked like he wanted to ask something.

Elrond's voice cut through the suddenly thick air: "The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you, must do this."

Nobody spoke. Then Boromir leaned forward in his seat. "One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its black gates are guarded by more than just orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep and the great eye is ever watchful. 'Tis a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this." He shook his head. "It is folly."

Legolas jumped up, angry at Boromir once more. It seemed they just could not get along. "Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed!"

This time, Gimli decided to get involved. "And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?" he asked the elf, holding his spare axe.

Boromir plowed right on, ignoring the growing argument. "And if we fail what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?"

"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an elf!" growled Gimli, and suddenly the room erupted. People shouted and argued, each with a different opinion. I remained seated along with Frodo and Elrond. After all, I knew the outcome of all this. There was no need for me, a simple girl who no one knew anyway, to get involved in an interracial feud.

Frodo, oblivious to the growing chaos, stared deep into the Ring, completely captivated by its power. I couldn't help but think of the words I had just heard from Sauron himself. What could they mean for me and the rest of the not-yet-formed Fellowship?

Suddenly, Frodo stood up and yelled, "I will take it!" No one heard, and so he said again, "I will take it! I will take the Ring to Mordor. Though I do not know the way."

I watched as Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and even Boromir pledged to protect Frodo with their lives. Then, of course, Sam, Merry, and Pippin rushed out from their hiding places to reserve their own places in the group. I smiled when I saw them all standing together, proud to be a part of this dangerous venture. I looked at Elrond. He smiled at me, and motioned with his finger to go join the others.

With a deep breath, I stood up. Every eye in the place turned to look at me again. I focused on trying not to blush as I walked slowly toward the Fellowship. When I stood in front of Frodo, I stopped and looked at him. He looked back at me, fear, confusion, and excitement all shining through his radiant blue eyes. I opened my mouth to pledge my help as well, when suddenly no words would come. What did I have to offer him? I was still a below average swordswoman, although training with the elves had helped immensely, and I was not proficient in any other weapon. I had only a limited knowledge of Middle-Earth, and wouldn't be any good at navigating out in the wilderness. I did know how everything would work out in the end, but even if I didn't go with them they would still succeed. The only reason I needed to go was because of the purpose for which I had been brought here. And they couldn't know about that - not yet.

So I simply told him the truth. "Frodo, I don't have much to offer you, but I will give the best of what I have to protect you and fulfill this quest." Frodo gave a slight smile, but when I looked up at the others, I noticed Boromir staring at me accusingly. I decided to ignore it, and instead turned around to face Elrond.

"Ten companions..." he said. "So be it! You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!"

A nervous grin spread up my face. It was really happening! We were going on a quest together! The Fellowship of the Ring! And then my heart grew cold as I recalled the dark words from a few minutes ago, and the task I had yet to undertake. Ice ran through my veins at the thought, so that I missed Pippin's infamous line. It was only when the council started to break up and people began to leave that I came to myself. Elrond had approached the Fellowship and was suggesting that we all eat dinner that night, in order to get to know each other.

When a time had been decided and Elrond turned to leave, I caught his sleeve. "Elrond," I stammered, "when Gimli tried to destroy the Ring, I heard something, a voice."

Concern flooded his face. "We shall not speak of this here," he decided. I tried to keep up with him as he strode quickly toward an adjoining room. When we got inside, he shut the door and turned back to me. "You said you heard a voice. Whose voice? What did he say? This is very important."

I told him the words which were still emblazoned on my brain. The room seemed to shrink and grow darker as I spoke. "I don't know for sure, but I suspect it was Sauron," I said.

"Yes, you are most likely right," Elrond said. I shuddered at this, and Elrond continued, "The words you heard are in the Black Speech. They mean, 'A young woman... Why? Death will come quickly. You will be destroyed!'"

I blinked, shocked at the portent of these words. "Does this mean he'll try to kill me? Does he know what I plan to do?"

"I don't think so," replied Elrond, "but he will find out. It is important that we proceed with all haste." He turned to leave, but stopped. He gripped my shoulders tightly. "You can not tell any of the others about this. The less people who know about this, the less likely for the story to be spread, and the safer you'll be. Do you understand?"

I nodded, my throat too tight for me to say anything. Then Elrond opened the door and swept out, leaving me afraid and alone.

**A/N: So, let me know what you thought of the chapter in reviews! Thank you for those who reviewed last time; it's always exciting for me to read your thoughts. Once again, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!**


	4. Chapter 4: Pranks

**A/N: I was gonna have this chapter done yesterday, but then I didn't have the time, so sorry about that. But it's here now! :) I'm not completely happy with how this turned, but it was fun to write, so to heck with it. Enjoy!**

I stepped into the banquet hall, overwhelmed by smells and noise. Elves bustled around, putting great platters of food on the trestle table standing in the center of the room. The cooks had really outdone themselves, presenting a feast that not only looked astounding, but smelled even better. Salads mixed with exotic fruits, vegetables, nuts, and other tidbits; potatoes, mashed, boiled, fried, baked; every type of meat imaginable, from tender, melt-in-your-mouth bites of quail, to an entire wild boar; desserts in abundance, candied fruit, pies, cakes, bread drizzled with caramel - all of these things decked the table. I had never seen such an enormous spread in my entire life, and I couldn't help but wonder how I would ever be able to choose between all the delicacies.

Glancing around, I saw the other members of the Fellowship sitting at a separate table at the end of the room. While everyone else chatted and laughed, those sitting at the end table barely even looked at each other. Reluctantly, I headed in their direction. While I certainly wanted to get to know them better, I felt subconscious being both the only woman and the youngest person allowed on the quest. _At least I'm not the shortest_, I thought. I couldn't imagine how intimidating it must be for the hobbits, surrounded by tall strangers.

There was an empty chair at the foot of the table, between Legolas and Pippin. No one looked up at me as I sat down, but that didn't bother me. Instead, I concentrated on loading my plate with the most delicious things I could lay my hands on.

Boromir looked in my direction from where he was sitting at the head of the table, directly across from me. "I have never seen a lady eat so much in my entire life," he said in a degrading tone of voice.

I blushed, embarrassed, but instead of letting it get to me I replied, "Well, I might as well eat as much as I can now. Once we leave, food will be a lot scarcer." Boromir didn't say anything to that, but turned back to his own meal.

Gandalf approached the table, arriving a bit late, and sat down, a jovial smile on his face. "Well, you're a cheery bunch," he said, noticing the silence hovering over us like a thundercloud. I snorted in agreement. Gandalf scooted his chair in closer and leaned in. "Well," he decided, "Elrond organized this so we could get to know each other, and that is exactly what we are going to do. Starting with you-" he gestured at Sam, "we'll go around and introduce ourselves."

Sam was startled by this, and stammered out something about being Frodo's gardener. So it continued, each saying a bit about themselves. I knew most of it already, but I was surprised to learn about Merry's self-proclaimed love of caterpillars. Who would have thought?

By the time it was my turn, I had planned exactly what I was going to say. No more awkward stammering for me. "My name is Aranel, and I'm 14 years old. I love to read, write, and dance." After proclaiming this, I realized how stilted it sounded, but at least it was better than being at a loss for words.

Unfortunately, Boromir ruined my plans once more: "And why are you coming on this journey, may I ask? Why would Elrond let such a young, naive girl travel on such an important quest?"

My mouth dropped open in shock. This was rude, even for Boromir. Why was he so against me? It seemed all he could do was criticize me. I struggled to find words. _Dang, here comes the awkward stammering again,_ I thought. Elrond had told me to keep information about my mission secret, so what could I possibly tell them? With nothing better to say, I replied, "I guess he thinks I might be useful." _Wow, that was eloquent_, I thought, _I'm sure they all think I'm completely stupid._

At least, Boromir seemed to. He stared at me, completely unsatisfied with my answer. I didn't say any more, however, but let Pippin finish off the introductions. For the rest of the meal, I stared at my plate, shoving the delicious morsels around with my fork, unable to enjoy them in the slightest.

As soon as the feasting started to wind down, I slipped away from the table, anxious to escape the suffocating silence and the looks Boromir kept shooting me. Once I was alone on one of the walkways, I picked up the pace and started running toward my chamber. I burst open the door and collapsed on the bed, sobbing hysterically. Why was I crying? Normally these kinds of insults would roll right off me, leaving not a single mark. For some reason though, Boromir's remarks had really bothered me. Maybe I was just being a teenager with mood swings. Or maybe the pressure resting on my shoulders was finally getting to me. Whatever it was, I went to sleep crying for my parents, my cat, and most of all, home.

* * *

I woke up the next morning with a new resolve, determined not to let the events from last night affect me. If Boromir didn't want to be friends, that was fine by me. I would simply develop relationships with the others. Then a thought popped into my head. The thought intrigued me. The thought developed into a spark, which turned into a glimmer, which underwent a metamorphosis and came out as an idea. I smiled - it was perfect. But I would need some help if I was to accomplish all this in time. So I whooshed into the corridor and asked a nearby elf if they had seen Merry and Pippin. They mumbled something about the kitchen, so I took off in that direction.

Sure enough, they were there, each sitting comfortably on a stool eating a rosy red apple. They looked up as I stumbled in, out of breath, and collapsed on the floor. After a second of sucking air into my lungs, I stood up once more and looked at the hobbits. They stared back at me, unsure as to what was going on. "So, uh, Merry and Pippin," I began. "I was wondering if you would be interested in helping me with something."

They looked at each other, considering their answer. Merry finally spoke up. "It depends, what do you need us for?"

I smiled knowingly. "I need your help to pull a prank on Boromir."

These simple words eliminated any indecision which they yet entertained. Twin grins spread on their faces, and I knew they would assist me. I began to describe my plan, and every once in a while, one of the two would supply their input. By midday, we had cemented the plan, and we set to work on the preparations.

* * *

Boromir went to dinner that night as usual, choosing his favorite food and drink. Although those around him chatted and laughed, he remained silent, concentrating on the task of filling himself with nourishment. However, after about fifteen minutes, and an overpowering desire to sleep flooded through him. A few bites more, and he could barely even think straight. So, struggling to stay awake, he excused himself from the table and stumbled to his bed, where he collapsed, exhausted.

He never heard the giggles and hushed voices of the two hobbits and one girl who moved about in his room that night. He didn't hear the rustlings and scrapings of furniture being moved. And he never guessed what he would wake up to the following morning.

For when he did wake up, it was to the loud blaring of a trumpet from directly outside his door. Startled, Boromir yanked his head up and slammed directly into the small table placed over his pillow. He yelled and shoved the thing off the bed, then rubbed his forehead angrily. Judging from the pain throbbing through his skull, he would have a large lump by then end of the day.

It was then that he noticed the flowers littering the room. His eyes opened wide in shock and confusion. There were flowers on his night table, on his bed, on the floor, on the windowsills, on his pillow - and now that he thought about it, even in his bedsheets. The air was cloyingly sweet, so much so that he had a sudden urge to be sick. That soon passed, however, leaving him to throw off the covers, stand up, and stretch. Boromir had no idea what was going on, but that wasn't going to stop him from going through his normal routine.

Unfortunately for him, though, he was hungry. And a bit thirsty as well. Because of his sudden sleep onset at dinner the previous night, he hadn't been able to eat as much as he normally would have. He was about to call for some food when he noticed the slice of cake and glass of grape juice on his night table (surrounded by flowers, of course). _That works well enough_, he thought, and picked up the plate and fork. The cake looked to be chocolate walnut, with a thick layer of vanilla frosting on top. It looked delectable, so Boromir got a big piece with his fork, placed it in his mouth, and began to chew.

His face contorted into a grimace of disgust, then he spat the "cake" back onto the plate. "What is this?!" he yelled, starting to get really upset. "It's, it's salty... It's meatloaf and mashed potatoes!" Quickly, he grabbed the juice, ready to down it and wash the taste out of his mouth. Tipping the glass toward his lips, he waited for the wonderful relief that would accompany the sweet liquid onto his tongue. But it didn't come. He looked up at the glass. The "juice" stayed firmly at the bottom of the glass, even when he held it upside down. Picking up the fork once more, he poked at it. It gave slightly, but was relatively firm. "Gelatin?!" he cried incredulously. _Ech, somebody is seriously out to get me_, he thought.

Well, he would just have to get something else from the kitchen if he wanted to eat or drink. Boromir reached for his clothes. His hand met a piece of paper. Curious, he picked it up. It had a message on it. It said:

_Your clothes have been kidnapped!_

_In order to get them back,_

_Please go to the brook outdoors._

_~~Piparamer_

Boromir swore inwardly. This morning was not turning out well. But there was nothing he could do about his clothing except to do what the note said and go to the brook. He looked down at the red tunic he was wearing. It would have to be enough.

He opened the door to his room and peeked outside. No one in sight. Perfect. He hurried outside while trying to seem dignified. Unfortunately, as he got further from his room and closer to the brook, the amount of people increased. Elves held their hands over their mouths in an effort to keep from laughing, while some of the other races visiting Rivendell didn't even bother to snicker quietly. Instead, they laughed out loud right in his face.

As he approached the courtyard, he noticed that almost all the members of the Fellowship had congregated there. Legolas and Aragorn were sitting on a rock, having a chat, while the four hobbits were playing some sort of game on the ground. Aranel was reading a book in the shade of a huge tree. Gandalf and Gimli were nowhere to be fun. There was no way around it. Boromir would have to cross the open courtyard to get to the brook. Steeling himself, he walked steadily but quietly toward the water. But there was no chance of him getting across unseen. Everyone looked up as he approached. Pippin and Merry broke out in laughter, rolling on the ground in ecstasy. Frodo and Sam looked incredulously at him, completely mystified by his appearance. Aragorn and Legolas smiled, their shoulders heaving in silent laughter. Aranel covered her mouth and laughed inwardly, pleased with how her prank had gone.

Boromir managed to blush in a light, manly way, and raced to the brook. He looked on the bank. No clothes. Where could they be? Had this "Piparamer" lied about the location of his garments? He turned around, gazing every which way, desperately hoping for a glimpse of his much-needed clothing. And then he saw them, hanging on a branch at the top of the tall tree, in front of which Aranel was sitting. "Oh no," he muttered, running his hand through his hair. There was no way he could climb up there and get them.

* * *

I couldn't help but laugh at Boromir's bewildered expression as he looked at his clothing high up in the tree. He looked terrible: he had a huge purple lump on his forehead which was swelling rapidly, his hair was mussed and tangled, and he was still in his pajamas. Oh well. Time to help him out a little. I put my book down and stood up. I shaded my eyes with my hand and said, "Hey Boromir! Need some help getting those down?"

He looked at me, then back at the hanging clothing. "Alright," he said finally.

With a grin, I scrambled up the tree, clinging to branches and balancing lightly on my toes until I reached the limb on which his clothes hung. I tossed them down to him, then clambered down myself. By the time my feet had hit the ground, Boromir had already pulled the garments on, greatly improving his appearance. I approached him slowly. He stared at me and said, "Did you do all this? Everything? Like the flowers in my room? To get back at me for what I said at dinner the other night?"

"Yup, you nailed it," I replied, still grinning. "Merry and Pippin helped me execute it."

"Ah yes, Piparamer. I understand now." Boromir looked uncomfortable. "I - I guess I have an apology to make," he said with a pained expression. I raised one eyebrow. "Well, I'm sorry for what I said," he mumbled. "I shouldn't have been so rude, especially to a lady like yourself. Please, accept my apologies."

I waved a hand. "Apology accepted. I completely forgive you. No hard feelings or anything. I know that things are different in Gondor, when it comes to gender roles. Where I come from, girls can do anything that a man can do, so that's the life I'm used to living."

"I understand," he sighed gratefully. I knew how hard it had been for him to apologize.

But I had one last prank to play. "By the way, you might want to check on your hair."

His expression of surprise was priceless. I watched as he ran to the riverbank and stared at his reflection in the water: his hair was green.

**A/N: Before anybody mentions it I'm just gonna say right now: I know there's no gelatin in Middle-Earth. It just worked so perfectly that I had to use it. And hey, they might have an equivalent somewhere in the elf-realm. Anyway, please review with your feedback! I love hearing your thoughts, so thanks to those who have reviewed so far.**


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